ALBERTICO Y ESPERANZA (PART II)

                                                     

Rumors began to spread in Havana; a ration card had been imposed; Cuba was part of the communist bloc despite Castro's repeated assurances to the contrary just a few months earlier. Albertico had earned the privilege of being sent to a special school that would qualify him as a political cadre. He hit the books hard and submerged into a jargon he had never heard before; the masses, class struggle, relations of production, basic means of production, planned economy; all that sounded good although he always had hated communism. One of the instructors had explained how Fidel had to be deceitful. El Comandante couldn't come clean about his ideology in 1959; conditions were not ripe yet. Albertico didn't know conditions had to be ripe; for all he knew Fidel never lied and he had defended Fidel's honesty with tooth an nails against many of his old friends. The highlight of the course came when Albertico learned he was fighting to install a dictatorship in Cuba; now wait a fucking minute!!!; he had helped overthrow Batista because the thug was a dictator and now this elderly man with a goatee tells him it was all in order to impose another dictatorship?; no; the instructor answered patiently, almost patronizingly. We had a shameful dictatorship that privileged the wealthy; the one we are building now will only make sure the proletariat is never deprived again of its inalienable rights; it's different. Ah, Albertico sighed relieved, now I understand; Comrade, what the hell is the proletariat anyway?

Esperanza's face was long and swollen; she had been crying; the children were already in bed and as he prepared for a quick shower his wife broke the news: Marcelo Pages; one of his best friends had been arrested and summarily sentenced to 20 years in prison. The charges were the same used against most of his friends: treason, working of the Yankee imperialism, divulging of propaganda against the revolution and so on. What's going to happen with his wife? with his children?, a desperate Esperanza asked her husband; can you do something?; can you tell them he had fought against Batista? Of course Albertico said; I will request a permit tomorrow at school and I will go to Villa Marista; you know who's in charge there? Maximo, our best man, remember? Esperanza nodded absently, she hardly remembered anyone anymore; for the last five years their life had been the revolution, and yet nothing worked. Marcelo remained in prison for 10 years and was released only to be taken to the airport and flown out of the country for good. Some friends had told him Marcelo had been tortured and abused but Albertico didn't believe "las bolas" the revolution never tortured anyone; the revolution was generous.

As in fast forward they remembered los diez millones; it wasn't ten million dollars but a goal Fidel had set for his people as a matter of honor. This Fidel was something else; el Comandante es un cabron hahahahaha. He cut the harvest of 1969 short and saved some of the output for the next harvest, the one of 1970 when they were supposed to achieve the greatest goal of all. Well, una trampista; we can't make it easier for the Yankees by stopping one pound short of the Ten Million Tons.

Esperanza reminds him of the assassination of el Che in Bolivia, how they cried when they heard the news; the invasion of Czechoslovakia; but that one he was prepared for; he had kissed Esperanza's forehead and patiently explained to her that the Soviets had made sure the proletariat was never abused again in that European nation. No Esperanza it was not like Batista's or Machado's it was our dictatorship; we have to make sure the rich few never exploit us again. It's complicated mi amor

Albertico spent 1970 making sure he contributed to the greatest success yet; he had even been in meetings with the Comandante; Esperanza you have to see this man; he is a genius, not only will we reach the goal but diversify our agriculture as well; we will no longer depend on anyone; we will be self sufficient; we will build communism even before the Soviets; how can a fertile island like ours import food? We will fix all that. Esperanza smiled halfheartedly as she saw her husband's back shrinking in the distance. It's so complicated, but yes, it would be great to be able to eat what you wanted and finally get rid of the damned ration card. Albertico had righteously told her: we will know we had won when we get rid of la libreta. She closed her eyes and hoped; a hopeless ignorant in politics she nevertheless remembered the stories so many Chinese from Calle Zanja had told her about why they had fled their country; no food to eat, everybody dressed with the same ugly clothes; everybody at the same level, but not at the same level of wealth but at the lowest level of poverty. Esperanza shrugged her worries off. Naw; it wouldn't happen in Cuba. Albertico was too smart to believe in something sinister and Fidel, according to her husband, was the smartest man on earth. Well, she had so many times had an opinion and after listening to the Comandante she had changed her mind. Everything would be alright.

The rally was vague in their minds; Fidel admitting the ten millions would never be reached; funny the real output even with la trampita of cutting the previous harvest short, was exactly as his friend Remberto had heard through The Voice of America: eight and a half million. He didn't feel defeated; he felt useless, powerless, once again the Cuban people had failed Fidel. The man had devoted his life to his country; he had sacrificed family and all for the good of the country and there they were, these lazy fellow Cubans unable to keep a promise. 

Esperanza seemed unable to get over the upset; el Comandante first had even hinted at a resignation only to close his speech calling Cubans to turn this defeat into a success; was someone going to cover the missing million and a half?; how could you fail and still succeed?; even Esperanza realized it was impossible; she gave up hope; she dutifully accepted her husband's kiss in the forehead but refused to believe things could be so complicated; probably some people want to make them look complicated because the simple truth was hard to swallow. They had very few friends left; most of those who had fought against Batista were either imprisoned or exiled and everybody else seemed only interested in buying stuff in the black market. Even Albertico who never believed "las bolas" had changed his approach. At first whenever she told him rumors had it that meat would run short he shrugged the rumor off saying it was all imperialist propaganda; now when she told him potatoes were going to be hard to find his unexpected response was: what are you waiting for mi vida? Go buy as much as you can !!!

Their children listened to a loud unintelligible music in English and smuggled "Carta de Espana"; they wanted to dress better and didn't care for voluntary work; Esperanza could never overcome her confusion and Albertico, puzzled as he was by things going  the opposite way he had fought for still kissed her forehead and told her: it's complicated mi amor, hay cosas que no se entienden. It looked as though the struggle was no longer the means to achieve an objective but the objective itself. It was complicated; hay cosas que no se entienden. TO BE CONTINUED...